So Long Sweet Summer
by kaeje
Summary: Draco Malfoy is home for the summer before his final year at Hogwarts. What looks like an uneventful summer gets a bit more exciting when he finds out just who is staying in a nearby Muggle village. DHr [Complete]
1. Somebody Told Me

**Chapter One**

_**Somebody Told Me**_

Draco never thought he would ever care to have the knowledge that he now possessed. He never thought that he might treasure the thoughts of her, the little glimpses into her life that he received during that short summer – but he did.

If somebody had told him at during his sixth year that by the end of the summer he would actually _know_ Hermione Granger, well let's just say they wouldn't have recognized the person staring back at them in the mirror anymore. But the fact was, was that here Draco stood, poised to enter the final year of his true childhood, and already he felt like he had acquired the worldly knowledge that older wizards than he – his father perhaps – didn't have. For the first time in his life he had seen, and maybe even almost appreciated, the fact that Muggles really didn't lead lives much different from his own. And all because of her.

Of course he couldn't say that he would want to live as a Muggle, or that he really wanted to associate with them. They still possessed the same ignorance to the world around them as ever. And however grudgingly he had to admit it, the same sort of ignorance he himself had shown towards them. Not that Master Malfoy was a reformed man. Power was still a major part of his everyday life, but perhaps some of his priorities as to what he should do with said power may have changed. And all because of her.

He was absolutely flabbergasted to find out that behind the bushy hair and the know-it-all book worm-ish qualities, was an actual person. In fact, there was an actual person who led her own real life outside of the walls of Hogwarts. A life that wasn't dominated by trips to the library and that didn't involve the other two members of the insufferable Golden Trio. One that, even by Draco's own standards was – normal.

To know that she had acquaintances outside of Hogwarts – friends even – came as a shock. It was amazing how much he could learn about one person in such a short time. Although she did have an unusual fascination with books, she was also athletic, musical, and so much more. He still couldn't decide if knowing her hidden obsession for Muggle fashion magazines was something he really wanted to find out. But the fact was, was that he _did_ know and however much he tried to hide it, he could only find it making her even more fascinating to him.

It all started during a late afternoon walk. The summer sun was beginning to fade, but it still sat warmly soaking into the black cloak wrapped around his shoulders. With the billowing black robe and disgusted grimace, Draco Malfoy did anything but blend into the crowd of holidaying Muggles in the small town. He regarded the beings that bustled past him in distaste, as they rushed around doing their own pointless tasks. He couldn't help but recoil slightly as countless numbers of them brushed up against him as they scurry past like the rodents that they were. He ignored the strange looks that he received as the Muggles viewed his wizarding robes. It was late July, and Draco was only trying to savor the thought of finishing his sixth year at school, and looking forward to the final one that was approaching at the end of vacation.

He didn't want to show it, but the amount of life that was out there beyond the confines of his Manor truly shocked him. Of course he had always known the Malfoy's owned a sizable chuck of land, and that a small town rested on it, but he didn't know to what extent. He could just see the village out of his bedroom window across the lake. But even from the short couple hundred of meters from where he had observed the thriving center; he had never really taken it in. He had lived there since his birth, and this was his first foray to the Muggle world that lay just beyond his home.

The path he took wound its way around the vast lake. Long and thin, Draco had been walking for ages, but looking across the water, was only about 100 meters from his home. The lake was it its thinnest where he was, and many Muggle children were splashing about in the water to his left, swimming laps across the lake.

To his right were the perfectly lines back gardens of the many tiny thatched cottages that stood there. As he made his way away from the center of the town, the number of Muggles about lessened, and instead the chatter came from inside the houses as they sat down to dinner. Intoxicating aromas floated in the air, tempting him to indulge himself with food. He could hear the busy street on the opposite side of the houses, the honking of horns apparent. It was nearly the weekend, and the boom of cottagers always happened on days like this.

As he moved further along the path, he could sense a slight vibration in the ground. The beat growing stronger the further on he went, and soon he could make out the noise to be music. As the beat drove on, soon Draco could hear a guitar rift and vocals joining in. _'Is there a concert going on tonight that I was not aware of?'_ Stopping outside one particular cottage, he could tell that the noise was coming from inside.

Being a nice day, the yellow trimmed windows and door of the white washed home were thrown open, allowing the sound to escape forth. Curious, he stepped over the rickety peeling yellow fence that lined the garden, and cautiously made his way over to the back window to peer inside.

Halfway across the garden, and he could hear a distinctly female voice joining in with the music.

"Somebody told me that you had a boyfriend..." he heard her singing along slightly off key.

What he saw surprised him. The source of the music was a small black and blue box. It was adorned with many different knobs and buttons that Draco couldn't make any sense of. The female voice belonged to a young woman who stood with her back to the window. He watched as she leaned over and turned one of the blue knobs. Immediately the music zoomed a few decibels higher and almost entirely drowned out the sound of her singing.

He could now see that she was doing the washing up, and Draco couldn't help but think smugly of the House Elves he possessed to do such tedious tasks. He was almost mesmerized as he watched her stick straight brown hair sway back and forth like her hips, as she bobbed her head in time with the music. Grabbing a glass from the draining board, she turned, towel in one hand, glass in the other.

"Potential..." she sang along, until it died on her lips. Her eyes widened in horror as she noticed the blonde haired boy standing in her kitchen window for the first time. Wide eyed himself, he watched as the glass slipped from her hand, and fell to the floor as if in slow motion. As it hit, bouncing slightly before shattering into pieces, her mouth opened and she emitted a blood curdling scream.

As the screech died down, she reached over frantically and hit a button on the musical box. Suddenly the sound ceased.

Gaining his composure, Draco couldn't help but feel as if his ears were ringing slightly with the absence of the music. Staring at the girl in front of him, he finally was able to speak.

"Good God Granger, what in the name of Snape's pink frilly knickers are you doing in my town?"


	2. Under the Robes

**Chapter Two**

_**Under the Robes**_

Her eyebrows rose in suspicion. "_Your_ town, Malfoy?" she remarked in disgust.

"Yes, Mudblood," he spat, noting triumphantly how she tensed at her nickname. "MY town; as in the Malfoy's own this place. Actually," he continued turning slightly, looking out across the lake, "you have quite a nice view of the Manor from here. Not to mention my room. Have you been spying on me, Granger?"

He really hoped that she would get into a strop over his implication. But she merely rolled her eyes and bent down to sweep up the shards of broken glass on the floor with a ratty old dish rag.

"If I had known..." he heard her mutter quietly.

"If you had known – what would you have done?" Draco questioned.

She glared up at him from the floor. "I would have taken Ron up on his offer to stay at the Burrow for the summer."

Draco couldn't help but let out a snort of amusement at this. "Summer chez Weasley? Barrel of laughs no doubt. Do they haul in extra straw for your bed – or do you share with the littlest one?"

To his amazement, Hermione didn't send a retort back at him. Instead she just shook her head and continued to clean up the mess on the floor. Not knowing what else to do, Draco casually leant up against the frame of the door and continue to pester her.

"Has it not occurred to you that we are of legal age now, Granger? Using magic would be so much easier," he remarked smugly.

She met him with a piercing glare. Standing up with the broken shards of glass in hand, she walked slowly towards him. Apprehension flickered through Draco's eyes for a second, but disappeared as he watched her just toss the broken object in the rubbish bin beside him.

Instead of answering his question, she turned quickly away. But before she spun away, he could see the angry look on her face get replaced with a blush. Hermione walked across the room to lean casually against the counter top. Draco cocked an eyebrow at her questionably waiting for a response. Her cheeks continued to colour.

"'M'oly'ixteen," she mumbled.

"Pardon?"

Hermione heaved a sigh. "I'm only sixteen," she admitted quietly. "My birthday isn't until September."

Draco appeared to be slightly shocked. He had forgotten the slight glitch in that particular law. But he shook it off, it just made the fact that he _could_ use magic on a whim even more enticing.

He rubbed his chin slightly, as if in thought. "So what you're saying is, I could hex you right now, and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco, and stalked across the kitchen back towards him. She poked him soundly in the chest. "There are certain things I can do to you that don't involve magic," she threatened. Turning back around, she made her way through the kitchen and into the adjacent room.

Quickly striding across the room, he followed her. "Is that a threat, Granger?" he called, as he entered the small front sitting room of the cottage.

"You bet it is, Malfoy," she replied. Suddenly with a sigh, he saw the angry fire fade from behind her eyes. Talking almost in exasperation she addressed him again, "look, Malfoy, I _was_ trying to get ready to go out. But if you would like to continue our enlightening conversation, be my guest and take a seat. I'll only be a second."

He almost blanched in disgust. "Take a seat? On your Muggle furniture? Are you completely daft?"

She had already started out of the room and was in the entrance hall to the home; she laid a hand on the railing of the stairs leading up to the second level. "You're right, Malfoy," she said decidedly, and he smirked. "I'm sure the Muggles that my family is renting from wouldn't appreciate you defacing their furniture. It's probably best if you stand – or better yet, leave." She flashed him a fake smile with her second suggestion.

He considered this for a split second before deciding. "Well if my presence here bugs you, then I suppose I'll have to stay."

With that he tossed himself on the ridiculously orange couch that faced the stairs, and smirked up at her. Again he was surprised that she didn't respond, and merely shook her head as she continued up the stairs.

It had been quite a few minutes since she had disappeared, and Draco began to get impatient. Originally, he had allowed himself to be captivated by the wonders of a Muggle home, but after spending 5 exasperating minutes trying to work some piece of plastic with a multitude of buttons on it, he gave up. Other than the hideous couch, only a large oak cabinet occupied the opposite wall, as well as a book shelf that overflowed with numerous books on the wall leading back into the kitchen.

Then his mind wandered to Hermione. Why didn't she respond to his insults? Usually she took the bait immediately when provoked by him. She seemed almost – amused – by his taunts. What had changed between the end of the school term and now?

Suddenly a loud ringing sounded out across the house. Draco started – it sounded as if the noise came from multiple places at once. Upstairs he heard a thumping noise, followed by a loud bang. Following this was a string of obscenities that he never thought could be a part of Hermione's vocabulary.

"MALFOY!" she screeched from over head. "Could you get that?!"

_'What the...'_ he thought. "What?" he called back.

"The phone!" she screeched again in her high pitch voice, sounding even more desperate than before. "Get the phone!"

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about, Granger?" Draco replied in amusement. The ringing noise continued, as did her constant swearing.

He heard her skidding down the hallway above him, and saw her practically fly down the stairs. He gaped at her in shock – was she wearing only her knickers and bra? Diving across the couch where he was still sat, she lay sprawled out across him, grabbing at a Muggle contraption that sat on an end table. Bringing a curved object to her face, he watched her place one end at her ear and the other next to her mouth.

"Hello?" she said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "What are you playing at, Granger?"

She glared at him, and pressed a finger to her lips. Suddenly aware of the location that she was, Hermione hastily pushed herself up off of him, and much to his dismay (although he would never admit to it) moved across the room. He saw now that she wasn't dressed in her undergarments like he had originally thought, but instead in a string bikini, which really seemed like essentially the same thing.

"Shannon, Shannon, calm down," she said into the Muggle object.

_'Shannon?' _Draco thought, _'did she just call me Shannon?'_ "Granger..." he started.

"SHHH!" she hissed at him. "Sorry, Shannon," she said, speaking back into the piece of plastic. "I've got a bit of an unwanted guest right now... Yes, yes I _know_ you told me already... No, you know I can't... Yes I'll be there..."

Draco stood up, and crossed the room to where she stood, intent on solving the mystery of the strange Muggle contraption. He ran a finger along the long cord that ran to the bottom end of the thing. Hermione absentmindedly twirled the line around her finger as she talked. When she saw him coming over she waved her hand frantically at him to sit back down, but he continued on anyway.

"Hold on a minute, Shannon," she said into the object. "Malfoy, sit _down_," she said to him, covering the end of the contraption that was next to her mouth with a hand. Annoyed he obliged puffing up in rage. "No, Shannon, you don't know him," she said. "No he isn't coming... He's from school... No you can't meet him! Look, I've got to run; I'll meet you soon OK? Bye." Hermione walked back across the room and replaced the thing in its holder on the table.

He raised an eyebrow questionably at her.

"Not now, Malfoy," she sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'm in no mood to explain Muggle telephones to you right now."

Draco fixed her with a piercing glare, but then allowed his gaze to travel down her body. Covering his eyes he remarked, "Eurgh, Granger, go cover up I don't want to see that!"

Watching her from between the large gap he conveniently left between his fingers, he saw her puff up her chest in anger. Essentially, she was just pushing her chest out even more at him, so Draco couldn't complain.

"It's just a bathing suit you prude," she said, placing her hands on her hips.

_'Indeed,'_ he thought, _'**just** a bathing suit. I knew Hogwarts' robes weren't exactly flattering, but had I known **that** was hidden beneath them..."_ Draco's thoughts trailed off as he lowered his hands from his eyes.

Looking at her, the first thing he really noticed was her hair.

"Granger, what have you done with your hair? It looks almost... normal," he remarked.

She reached up and patted her unusually flat and frizz free tresses. "Oh – Shannon, she straightened it for me last night. It's not permanent though," she replied self-consciously.

Raising an eyebrow, he allowed his eyes to move downward from her hair, roaming up and down her barely covered body.

Suddenly aware of the attentions he was paying her, Hermione began to blush, and self-consciously cover her stomach and chest with her arms.

"Come on now, Granger," he said amused. "You weren't too shy a minute ago when you were throwing yourself onto my lap."

He gave her his trademark smirk, and tried not to laugh as he watched the colour on her cheeks deepen. She quickly bounded up the stairs and out of sight. Seconds later Hermione reappeared, having thrown on a short sky blue sundress, covered in large green outlines of flowers.

She looked almost annoyed at the fact that he was still there. _'Good,'_ he thought smugly, _'then its working.'_ She stood in the doorway for a few seconds unsure of what to do, wringing her hands in a nervous fashion.

"So," she said as she chewed on her bottom lip anxiously. "Would you like some tea then?" He raised an incriminating eyebrow at her. "If you keep raising an eyebrow at me, Malfoy, you're face is going to freeze that way," she said nastily. "I'm only trying to be hospitable." Hermione threw her hands in the air and sighed in exasperation. "But I doubt that word is even a part of the Malfoy vocabulary."

Draco coughed slightly. "I'll have you know the Malfoy's are very hospitable – to whom they choose to be."

"Touché," she remarked sarcastically under her breath, and rolled her eyes. Hermione began to move towards the door heading out into the kitchen.

He stepped in front of her. "Granger, why must you insist on leaving the room every few minutes?"

"Malfoy, why must you insist on not getting the hint and buggering off?" Hermione sneered at him.

_'She's turned into quite a feisty one in the past week,' _Draco thought. He cocked his head at her. "Do you have a date tonight or something, Granger? Why the hurry?" Then he began to laugh. "Wait – you? Date? My bad."

He watched the fury blossom behind her chestnut eyes. "For your information," she hissed at him, "I'm meeting some friends for dinner."

Draco snorted. "You don't have friends, Granger, remember?"

"Actually I think you're mixing the two of us up, Malfoy." Hermione grinned at him.

Draco just laughed at her. He didn't know exactly how to respond to her accusation. Hermione had hit on the truth; he **didn't** have any true friends. Not that Draco cared. To him, a friend would just be a liability. Look at the way the bloody Golden Trio were; always going around having to save each others hides. It all seemed such a waste of time to him. Draco only cared about himself. Feeling obligated to protect someone else in dangerous situations would just be a hassle. Why bother? He had the companionship when he wanted it and that was all he needed.

She caught him unaware while he was still lost in his thoughts, and finally pushed past him into the kitchen.

"Out. Now," she demanded pointing to the door.

He spun around to face her. "Oh I don't think I'm ready to leave yet, Mudblood," he said with a smirk.

"Well, ferret-boy, I'm leaving, so you are too," she replied.

"You're not still going on about this non-existent dinner are you, Granger?" he asked with amusement.

Hermione stomped her foot in agitation. "I **do** have a dinner to go to you obnoxious prat. Now out!"

He allowed himself to be ushered out of the Granger's house. _'This is more like the normal Hermione,_' he thought after her little outburst. He watched her take out a small key and turn to lock the door. Remembering she couldn't do any magic, he got an idea.

With a smug look, he took out his wand and pointed at the door. _"Sealus Porte," _he muttered.

Hermione turned to him with a look of outrage on her face. "What are you doing?!" she cried. "I can't do magic, how can I get back in?"

Draco rolled his eyes at her. "That's the point of it, Granger."

Hermione clenched her jaw, and he could have sworn emitted a low growl. Before he knew what was happening, she was standing behind him and had an arm wrapped about his neck. The key was still in her hand, and the spikes were pressed up against his throat.

He scoffed at her. "What are you going to do with a key, Granger?"

In response she tightened her grip about his neck and pressed the spikes of the key harder into his flesh. Involuntarily he coughed from the combination of the pain and the fact that he found it hard to breath.

"OK, OK," he gasped. When she slowly pulled away from his neck, his hand immediately came up to rub the spot where the metal had been pressing against his skin. He could feel several small indents in his flesh.

Hermione now faced him, hands on her hips waiting for him to perform the unlocking spell. _"Alohomora,"_ he mumbled. "Damn it all, Granger, are you **trying** to kill me?" he spat at her angrily, finally catching his breath.

She laughed at him, "I don't want to kill you, Malfoy." Leaning closer to him she whispered in his ear, "just cause you lots of pain."

He shivered as her breath washed over his neck. But then Draco noticed that she was gone. Looking frantically from side to side, he saw her walking down the same beaten path he had been following earlier.

He didn't know why, but he called after her. "Granger! Granger!" he yelled as loud as he dared. But she didn't turn around, and he was forced to watch her retreating form until it disappeared around a bend.

Draco didn't know why he cared, but the loss of her conversation left him feeling empty. It may have been Mudblood Granger, but it was at least nice to have a real conversation with someone every once in awhile. Sighing with dejection, he turned and started down the trail in the opposite direction, making his way back to the Malfoy Manor.


	3. Sweat, Dirt, and Curses

**Chapter Three**

_**Sweat, Dirt, and Curses**_

It was early morning when Draco rose. He never had been able to acquire the knack of sleeping in like most of the youth his age. He slipped out from between the deep, forest green satin sheets of his four poster bed. Tearing the black hangings apart roughly, he blinked and squinted his eyes as the bright morning sun hit him. The dark black window hangings had already been opened by a House-Elf and across the room on his large, mahogany table they had set a tray of steaming hot porridge.

Draco couldn't help but look about his room with disdain. It was spacious, but there was hardly anything in there to take up all the room. It was cold with its stone walls and black tiled floor. The luscious, black shag throw rugs that were scattered about did nothing to help this. Besides the large bed against the left hand wall and the table against the opposite side, there were bookshelves lining the space beside the window. Other than the door into the room and the closet door, there was one more leading off into an equally spacious and empty bathroom.

The whole place screamed Slytherin at him. The blacks, greens, and greys, were depressing. Although he wouldn't admit it, Draco hated all these colours. The truth was, was that he actually preferred the colour red above all else. Of course no one knew this and it would take a strong dose of Vertiserum to get that out of him.

Walking over to the food that had been placed for his meal, Draco picked up a spoon and poked at it. Scrunching up his nose in disgust he picked up his wand from beside the bowl. _"Evanesco," _he muttered, and the muck disappeared promptly.

Feeling slightly better, he went over to the floor-length windows and threw them open. Draco stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the grounds. The fresh air hit him and he inhaled deeply taking in the crisp scent of the mountains surrounding the land.

Looking down below him he saw the empty patio where his parents always had their early breakfast. A soft shade was cast on the area by the patchy roof of lattice work. Rose snaked their way up the white marble columns that were scattered about the garden. A small area in the centre was set up for meals, in the exact middle of the spiralling stone tiles that made up the circular patio. Dirty dishes still sat on the table, yet to be cleaned up by a House-Elf. _'Lazy little buggers,'_ Draco though with distaste.

Movement down by the lake caught his attention. Down the hillside, following the path that wound all the way around the perimeter of the water, was a lone figure jogging. _'Who dares to run across the Manor's grounds?'_ he wondered. Most of the villagers knew not to venture across the stretch of land that fronted the Manor's property. Apparently this Muggle hadn't been informed. A sneer of contempt formed on his lips. _'Let's go teach this half-brained waste of air a lesson,'_ he thought.

Whoever they were, they had just begun their journey across the grounds, so Draco had enough time to throw on a black tee-shirt and pants. Striding confidently across the grounds, he made his way towards the figure. As he near them, he could see by the long hair that swayed back and forth that it was a female. There was something familiar about the frizzy mass that was there. He moaned inwardly, _'leave it to Granger to disregard the rules of the land and ruin a perfectly nice morning.'_

"Oi, Granger!" he called out to her. "What do you think you're doing? You're trespassing!"

He saw her start as his voice boomed out against the silence. Then her gaze dropped to the wristwatch that she had attached to a belt loop of her running shorts. Not moving her gaze from the watch, she held up one finger at Draco telling him to hold on. She continued to run on and he found himself having to walk quickly so that she didn't pass him. Finally he heard a soft beep from the watch and her pace dropped down to a walk.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she breathed, sounding better than he had expected for her pace.

"You're on my property, Mudblood," he said crossing his arms and glaring at the girl. "Can't you at least stop?" he asked her, trying not to show how out of breath he was beginning to get from her fast paced walk.

She shook her head violently, her hair going everywhere. "Can't," she gasped out. "I'm being timed." She gestured down at her watch. It beeped again and she began to run.

"Granger," he panted, picking up his pace to keep up with her. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Running, you dolt," she said grinning at him, visibly sweating from the heat and exertion.

"But.. why.." he gasped.

"I'm in training, Malfoy, I'm here to run the triathlon you're town is holding next week," she replied simply.

"Tri- what?" he said baffled.

She sighed at his obvious ignorance. "It's a three part race, Malfoy. This is a sprint triathlon - you swim two hundred meters, bike twenty kilometres, then run two kilometres. I run around the lake everyday to stay in shape."

"What?!" he exclaimed and actually stopped running alongside her. He watched her in amazement as she continued jogging. "But it's ten kilometres around this lake!"

She turned around but continued to run backwards. "I know," she called back grinning at him. "I'll be more then prepared won't I?" she remarked and winked at him. Hermione then turned back around and proceed to pick up her pace, swiftly moving further away from him, until she was barely a speck along the shoreline.

Draco looked about cautiously to see if anyone could see him. Satisfied, he proceed to collapse onto the ground, kneeling in the grass. Bent over double, he gasped for the breath he had lost running alongside her. Slowly he was able to stand up again, but was still leaning over, hands placed on his now grass-stained knees. Sweat was dripping from his brow line and he could just tell how flushed his face was. _'That little bint is insane,'_ he thought, panting and shaking his head in amazement.

He walked slowly back up the trail towards the Manor. On his right side Draco passed the small beach that he use to come swimming at when he was younger. His shirt was still sticking uncomfortably to his back and so without further ado he peeled it off. Kicking his shoes off into the sand, he slipped out of his heavy jeans. Just clad in his inky black boxers, Draco waded out into the refreshing waters of the lake.

Just up to his waist, he decided to dive right in. The water felt so cool and pleasant against his overheated body. Lazily he began to do the backstroke across the lake, easily covering the one hundred meters to the opposite side. With a groan, he began to just float aimlessly in the water, allowing his muscles to relax. _'When did I get so out of shape?' _Draco pondered. _'Isn't Quidditch enough exercise?'_ He didn't want to answer his own question. He knew that there was little strength needed in being a Seeker. He just had to fly fast and have good eyes. Draco had never bothered to attend the team workout sessions, not seeing why they would be needed for him. Now he was here wishing he hadn't been so lazy back at school. He closed his eyes with a sigh and continued to relax.

Draco didn't know how long he had been floating there in the water, but suddenly a shadow loomed over top of him. He flinched a little, but didn't bother to open his eyes. Then Draco could feel hands on his bare chest and before he knew what was happening he was pushed under the water. His arms and legs flailed about uselessly trying desperately to get him back up to the surface. When he finally felt the hands release him, Draco resurfaced quickly. He stood in the shallow water, dripping like mad and glowering at the figure that stood in front of him.

Hermione had her hands up against her mouth trying to stifle the giggles that were erupting. He saw her shoes and watch deserted on the beach and noticed her cottage was right by where he had previously been floating.

"Think you're so funny do you, you filthy Mudblood?" he spat in rage. Draco shook his head quickly side to side, shaking the beads of water from his hair. He watched her flinch as the droplets rained down on her. Combing his fingers through his locks to make them lay flat, he looked over at her.

She had stopped laughing and was gaping openly at his barely covered body; not unlike the way he had looked at her the day before.

"Like what you see, Granger?" he said smugly.

"I haven't seen anything special - yet," she replied biting her bottom lip and raking her eyes up and down his figure suggestively.

Draco raised his eyebrows in shock. Was Hermione Granger coming on to him? "As if I'd give a Mudblood like you the privilege of that," he sneered at her.

"Whatever you say, Malfoy," she said with a roll of her eyes. Hermione turned away from him and began to walk back up to the beach.

_'Oh no you don't,'_ Draco thought. He dived at Hermione and pulled her legs out from under her. She fell with a splash into the water next to him.

She sat in the shallow water propped up on her elbows. Her hair was plastered to her scalp and water was trickling in rivers down her face. Hermione shook her hair out before hitting him with a piercing glare. "What are you playing at, you creep!" she growled at him.

Draco stood up to tower overtop of her menacingly. But then he merely turned his gaze down to examine his fingernails. "I don't know what you are talking about, Granger."

Suddenly he felt something wet hit his left cheek. Reaching up he wiped his face clean, coming away with mud clinging to his hands. He glared down at Hermione just to see her looking away across the lake trying to contain the amused smile on her face.

"Who's the filthy one now, Malfoy," she said smugly.

"At least I can wash away my dirt," he hissed at her in rage.

Hermione hauled herself out of the water and stood only a few inches from his face. "Did it ever occur to you," she said through gritted teeth, "that I may be proud of my Muggle blood?"

"That's a good one, Granger," Draco said laughing at her. He turned around and began to make his way across the lake back to where his clothing had been abandoned.

"I'm not joking, Malfoy," she called after him. "I'm proud of not being so ignorant to the world that is beyond ours."

Draco just continued swimming away, ignoring her shouts across the water. When he finally made it across to his beach he looked back - but she was already gone, disappearing back up to her minuscule cottage.

As he pulled his clothing back on he couldn't help but think about what she had said. _I'm proud of not being so ignorant to the world that is beyond ours. _He wasn't ignorant - was he? _'Besides,'_ he rationalised to himself, _'who needs to understand those dirty Muggles anyway?'_ But he couldn't help but have the feeling in his gut that what he was telling himself wasn't the truth. He had been intrigued at the Muggle contraptions that were in the Granger's home. Like that box that played music, or the thing she was talking into - telephone was it? _'Alright, so maybe the way they get along without magic is interesting, but that is it,' _he thought, _'they are still disgusting creatures - especially Granger.'_

Which brought him back to the female witch. What exactly had got into her? It was almost as if she was flirting with him, possibly seducing him. It unnerved him to have Hermione Granger doing such a thing. It wasn't something he expected from the straight-laced girl. Something fishy was going on and Draco wanted to get to the bottom of it.


	4. High Pitch Screeches

**Chapter Four**

_**High Pitch Screeches**_

"Draco! What are you doing! You're not even dressed yet!" cried the high pitch voice of Narcissa Malfoy.

He had to hold back the impulse to plug his ears against his mother's shrieks. "Always the observant one, Mother," he said sarcastically.

Draco reluctantly turned away from where he stood looking out from the balcony. Why he was looking out across the grounds, Draco didn't know. It certainly wasn't because this was the time Hermione was usually swimming laps of the lake. He immediately regretted turning to face his mother's wrath. She was electric in rage; why, he wasn't sure. What did it matter to her if he was still wasn't dressed properly?

"The Parkinsons will be here shortly," she snapped. "As will the Zabinis, Notts, Goyles, Crabbes, and Lord knows who else. I will not have you appearing late." With that his mother fixed him one last glare before turning on her heel and exiting.

As the door slammed shut behind her, Draco sunk into the nearest armchair. He suppressed a moan and buried his head in his hands. He had entirely forgotten that tonight was the annual Malfoy Summer Dinner Party. All the top Death Eater families would be in attendance as well as all the new up-and-comers.

It was a night that Draco had learned to despise. It was a top social event within the Pure-blood families and the who's-who of wizarding society always turned out. Only the best received invites to the party and the best always turned out to be the most dull. An entire evening of having to make small talk with old satanic wizards and witches who weren't all there was pure torture. If he had to endure another rant on how horrid the Muggle-born wizards were today, he wasn't going to take responsibility for his actions. Granted, he thought Muggle-borns were horrid as much as the next person, but having to hear about it ten times in one night was enough to send the sanest wizard around the bend.

Of course there was an upside. He did get to spend time with all his mates from school. But even this year it couldn't cheer him up. The only person Draco could actually have a good time - and an intelligent conversation - with wasn't attending. Blaise Zabini was currently off conducting 'business' with his father and so his mother and older sister would be coming solo. That left him all alone to fend off Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. It wasn't exactly a pleasant thought.

With a sigh Draco hauled himself to his feet and over towards his immense wardrobe. Knowing his father, arriving after any of the guest was an offence worthy of castration.

----------

"Draco," whined Pansy's nasal voice beside him. "You're not listening to me!" Her claw like hand clutched at his left shoulder in an attempt to gain his attention.

Shrugging his shoulders in annoyance didn't seem to get his point across. Reaching over he manually pried her death grip off of him. "I'm sorry if hearing about the latest robe shop in Diagon Alley isn't incredibly enthralling," he replied dryly.

He saw her try and pout seductively at him and could feel her fingers lightly caressing his hand. "We could go do something a little more enthralling then," she remarked flirtatiously.

"Give it up, Pansy," Draco said with a sigh. "Find someone else to shag aimlessly. Franklin Collins looks ready and willing; although the effort might kill him.

"Draco!" Pansy exclaimed, wrinkling her nose as she looked over at the old greying man. Draco had to suppress a chuckle when the man winked cheekily back at her.

He felt a hand clap him on the back. As Draco stood and turned around, he got an impression of black hair and golden skin before his vision was obscured as a figure ran at him, stifling him in her perfume and dark curls.

He pulled her arms from around his neck. "Lovely to see you too, Antonia," he said greeting the young woman stiffly. To him, she was just an older version of Pansy, yet slightly more tolerable.

"Draco," he heard a voice greet him from behind the girl.

"Blaise," he replied smirking. Holding out his hand, he shook with his classmate. "I thought you were away on business?"

The two of them began walking away from the crowded dining room. "Turns out I'm quite the inept... businessman," Blaise replied cryptically.

Draco had to laugh, and a genuine smile crossed his face for the first time in a long while. "Can't say I could ever see you playing the evil Death Eater anyway, Zabini," Draco said amused.

"Pissed the Old Man off royally though," Blaise remarked. "Couldn't keep me around for more than a week; just got home yesterday. So, mate, you coming to spend August at Zabini Manor like usual?"

Draco furrowed his brow in thought. It had so easily slipped his mind about how he normally spent the summer in Italy with Blaise's family. They had a gorgeous villa in a small town just outside Florence and Draco had been going there as long as he could remember. The Zabini's constantly had foreign guests staying at their home, good companionship for him and Blaise. As Draco got older, the supply of exotic young witches had been more than enough to entice him to come. But why was Draco hesitating now?

"So?" Blaise questioned, looking over at his friend expectantly.

"I'm not sure," Draco said slowly, buying himself some time. "I think my mother wants me home for my last summer."

"If you say so," Blaise said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Let me know if you change your mind."

Draco saw Blaise hailing Theodore Nott from across the room. As he came over and engaged Blaise in conversation about his summer, Draco slipped away silently. He made his way out of the room and onto the patio overlooking the grounds. Heading in the opposite direction of his parents' breakfast nook, Draco began to wander aimlessly around.

He tried to grasp onto the concept that he had just refused the usual invitation to the Zabini Villa. He never refused; it never occurred to him to do so. To top it off, Draco had lied about why he couldn't come. Not that lying was a problem for him, but just the fact that he had felt it necessary to do so.

Draco raked a hand through his hair. What was getting into him? He hated Malfoy Manor, wanted nothing but to get away from the place. In addition to this, he would be able to get away from the presence of Granger. _'Granger!'_ he thought. _'Could she be the reason I want to stay?'_ But that was preposterous; he hated the dirty Mudblood.

Didn't he?


	5. The Good Race

**Chapter Five**

_**The Good Race**_

It had been almost a week since he had least seen Hermione. _'Well, that's a lie,'_ he told himself as he lay in bed one night contemplating it. He had _seen_ her, but never actually talked to her since that day in the lake. He had watched her from his balcony as she ran across the front of the Malfoy property everyday. He also saw her out swimming laps across the lake a few times.

The first time he saw her swimming, he had been wandering along the path by the water. Draco had stopped at the same small beach that he had swum from a few days earlier. Hearing the splashing of the water, he looked out to see her coming towards him. She had been almost at his feet in the knee-deep water when she finally stopped. Looking up to see him standing over her, Hermione had pushed herself up to face Draco. Water cascading down her body and her heavy hair weighed down and frizz free, she looked almost pretty to him.

Hermione had fixed him with a questioning look. "Malfoy?" she whispered softly.

He had been openly gaping at her. His mouth was opened slightly, and he was about to say something when he thought better of it. Instead Draco had turned on his heel and walked away from her back up to the Manor.

Since that day he had observed her from the safety of the balcony. He didn't quite understand why, but she made her way into his thoughts often. Maybe it was because he suspected that he had turned down Blaise's invitation partly because of her. But he told himself he was being silly – he just wanted to spend his last summer vacation at home, what did Granger have to do with it? As a matter of fact, her being there was a downside to staying home. But he couldn't help thinking of a few of the comments she made, like the accusation of him having no friends, to her being proud of her Muggle background. He knew the former was just an insult, but it had hurt because it was _true_. And why was she so hard to provoke now? Something had changed in Hermione since the end of their sixth year. Even on the train ride home, it only took one insult to the Golden Trio to get her to fight back. Now she would just shake her head, roll her eyes, or laugh at him. It's like her heart wasn't in her efforts of being nasty. The fire that he could see behind her eyes when she got angry seemed to fade seconds after it appeared. What had changed?

He also couldn't get over the feeling she had been trying to seduce him. The whispers in his ear, the looks she gave him at the lake. And it was almost beginning to work. The memory of her standing in front of him back at her cottage in just her bathing suit and the picture of her drenched from her swim haunted him.

With the memory of her dripping figure and questioning look that left him speechless in his mind, Draco fell into a deep sleep.

_"And now to present to you, your Valedictorian, Draco Malfoy!" Professor Dumbledore boomed out._

_Smugly Draco stood up from his seat behind and to the left of the podium. The cheering of the students and parents in front of him caused him to smirk. Looking down over the podium he could clearly see Hermione Granger sitting between the rest of the Wonder Trio. He almost smiled looking at her, knowing that here he was, top of the class, and there she sat, finally second to him. But then he saw the tear-stained cheeks, and the fleeting moment of joy passed._

_He felt as if it wasn't worth it, being up here. Somehow he knew that he had done something to cause her to lose this title – something horrible. She should be the one getting this award. Even if he had managed to snag top student this final year, it most likely wasn't the fair way. And she had outsmarted him the remaining six years of their schooling. Yes, she should be the one up here._

_The crowd continued to clap and applaud him. He cleared his throat, ready to begin his speech, ready to denounce the title, but they wouldn't stop cheering. He tried again, louder this time, but to no avail. The crowd just would stop. He looked about frantically at his teachers, but they too were clapping along. Would they ever stop…?_

Draco's eyelids flickered before they flew wide open. '_Was I really going to give up being Valedictorian to Granger?'_ he thought in disgust. That cheering though, why wouldn't it stop? Then he heard it out in the distance. The yells and screams and clapping of people across the lake.

Wrenching open his bed hangings in a frenzy, he practically ran out onto his balcony. Crowds of people were gathered on the opposite side of the lake, a few hundred metres down from the Manor. In the middle of the lake the tiny figures of hundreds of swimmers could be seen. Most of them were in a large group in the middle, but a few had moved up to the lead and some stragglers were falling behind as well. _'It's that tri-thing-a-ma-jig,'_ Draco realised. Without a second thought, Draco headed back into his room and dressed quickly. Not wanting to stand out in the crowd, he pulled on a freshly pressed white tee-shirt and black jeans.

He strode quickly across the grounds towards the point where the swimmers were exiting the water. He saw countless bicycles set up just down from the beach. Shorts, shoes, helmets, and water all hanging off of it. Muggles were streaming out of the water and running towards their bikes. Behind a steel partition was a small crowd of spectators cheering on the athletes. Draco picked up his pace, and pushed his way through the crowd to the front. He scanned the swimmers that were making their way towards the bicycle racks. Where was Hermione? He looked about frantically until realising that the last person had left the water and cycled away, and guards were taking down the barrier.

The people surrounding him were beginning to walk quickly along the path the cyclists had just disappeared off along. He turned to an older man that was passing him.

"Where is everyone going?" Draco asked.

The man looked at him as if Draco was growing a second head. "To the finish line of course, Boy!"

Draco scrunched his face up in thought. "But if they are ahead of us," he thought out loud, "won't we arrive there too late?"

"You silly boy," the man exclaimed in exasperation. "They still have a twenty kilometre bike and a two kilometre run, the leaders won't even begin getting in for another half-an-hour."

"Oh," Draco mumbled. He mentally reprimanded himself for not remembering what Hermione had told him about the race. He continued to walk along beside the man. "Err – so who are the favourites to win this thing?" he asked.

The man looked at him and shook his head. "This is a small town, small race. There really aren't any favourites, or elite athletes here. Although, some have been talking about a city girl – probably from London – who has been out training everyday since she arrived."

Draco nodded his head. "_Could that be...'_ he wondered. _'No way that could be Granger – could it?'_ he thought.

The two of them had reached the finish line, and the man walked off without a backwards glance at Draco. Draco found a place behind more metal barriers, just a few metres from the finish line. People swarmed around him, pushing his body against the cool metal. Spectators had lines the street coming into the main square of the small town, following the path that the runners would be taking.

A young woman beside him had an electronic gadget pressed up against her ear. It looked similar to the telephone Granger had in her cottage.

"Dad says she's running now!" the girl exclaimed excitedly to her sister beside her. "He says she is about fifty people back."

Suddenly cheers began to erupt from the crowd further down the road. Runners began to appear in clumps of two or three making their way through the town. As they laid eyes on the finish line many pushed themselves to sprint and came streaming through the gate. He had barely enough time to register the twenty-something year old male that won the race when he spotted her turning the corner.

Even though she was still quite a way away from him, he could see her face light up at the sight of the finish. Hermione looked absolutely exhausted, sweat covering her flushed face. The small black running shorts that she wore over her one piece bathing suit were plastered to her legs. As she got closer he began to clap along with the crowd.

"Come on, Granger!" he yelled as she passed. _'What am I doing?' _he wondered turning beet red in mortification. Draco watched as she looked over, and upon seeing him standing there, gave him a questioning look. But it was fleeting, and the next thing he knew Hermione gave him a grateful grin and pushed harder, picking up the pace. He saw her practically fly across the line.

Draco pushed himself away from the street and through the Muggles thronging about. Around the finishing area were more barricades, keeping out everyone but race volunteers and the athletes. He finally found the exit where family and friends were waiting for their loved ones to come out. Draco spied Hermione, medal around her neck and bottle of water in hand. A male volunteer ran up to her and wrapped an unusually large piece of aluminium-foil around her shoulders. '_What in the world…'_ Draco thought confused.

She was exiting the finishing area when she spotted him waiting outside. Her face was still flushed, but she was grinning like mad. Draco couldn't help but smile with her – it was infectious. Without thinking her ran over to her and scooped up her small body in a hug, swinging her about.

At first Hermione hugged him back, but suddenly she went rigid in his arms. That was when the reality of the situation hit him as well. He froze, and set her back down on the ground. Still shocked from his sudden actions, he thrust out a hand towards her.

As she tentatively shook it he said, "Good race, Granger."

If it was possible she went even redder as a blush added to her flushed face. "Thanks, Malfoy," she said quietly.

He looked her up and down. "You do realise you're wearing aluminium-foil?"

She laughed whole-heartedly at him. "They give it to everyone – it helps keep the heat in after a race so you don't get chilled and sick."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "Right..." he said slowly. He toyed around slightly with the ribbon attached to the medal around her neck. "You didn't win the race, Granger, why do you have a medal?"

"It's a participation medal you buffoon," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "Everyone gets one. But for your information I came in second in my age category, so I will be getting a medal."

"Not first place than, Granger? Shouldn't you be bawling your eyes out at the thought of not being top?" Draco remarked sarcastically.

This comment got Hermione huffed up in annoyance. "This was my first triathlon Malfoy. I didn't even expect to place in the top-ten, let alone second."

"Well congratulations," he said nastily.

She sighed. "Malfoy, why are you even here?"

"Well, Granger," he started, "one day just under eighteen years ago, my parents decided to commit the dirty deed, to consummate their love, to shag – whatever you wish to call it. Then, nine months later I was born. Are you following me?" he asked with a smirk.

"You know what I mean, Malfoy," she said in annoyance. "Why are you here at the race – why were you cheering me on?"

"What am I not allowed to do a good deed?" he replied his hand held over his heart in mock despair. "God knows Potty and the Weasel would have done the same thing. Wait," he said, thinking about the comment he just made, "why aren't the other two other members of the Golden Trio here?"

Her eyes flitted to the ground, and she wouldn't look up at him. "They don't even know that I run, let alone was participating in a race."

"But why?" he asked confused as to the reason of her secrecy.

Hermione looked up at him, a familiar fire flickering behind her mahogany orbs. "Tell me, Malfoy, didn't you ever wonder why I decided not to spend the summer with them? Why I choose instead to come and live up here in a Muggle alone?"

Draco's brow furrowed as he thought her question over. "Well because you wanted to run this tri-thing."

"But why couldn't I have trained down there, then come up here for the day of the race?" she asked simply.

"Err..." for once Draco was at a loss for words.

She was getting thoroughly miffed – that Draco could tell. But for the first time he couldn't think of any nasty remark her had said that could have set her off.

Hermione took a step towards him, poking him soundly in the chest. "I'll tell you why, Malfoy," she spat at him. "Because would rather spend their summer with those girlfriends of theirs, because they don't need me around in the summer, because right now there is no homework due, no tests to study for, because I wasn't. even. invited."

Draco looked back at the girl in shock. "But – but you said the first day we talked that if you had known I lived here you would have taken Weasley up on his invitation to spend the summer at his home."

She laughed sadly. "Well I suppose I should take that back then. He did invite me – after his mother told him too."

They suddenly heard shouts from behind them.

"Hermione!" yelled an older woman and man. They waved their arms about like mad trying to get her attention.

"Those are my parents," she said softly. Giving him a sad smile Hermione turned around and made her way towards the happy couple. He watched as they enveloped her with congratulatory hugs before he himself turned around and disappeared off into the crowd.


	6. Konstantine

**Chapter Six**

**Konstantine**

What was it that was drawing him in towards Hermione? Maybe it was because his view of her had always been so one-dimensional. He had never seen her as a real person before; a person with depth. Perhaps it was the new persona he was seeing this summer. She was more carefree, but yet darker. He could tell she was marked in some way – scarred. Was it merely the loneliness she felt from the absence of her friends? Maybe the rejection they had bestowed on her?

Could it be the pride she held for her parentage? Most dirty blooded wizards he taunted always seemed to be embarrassed and ashamed when he made remarks about them. Hermione stood up for her family, something even he didn't do too often.

Draco found himself pondering these thoughts as he walked along the lake at dusk the evening after the race. When he passed her cottage he stopped, staring at the small dwelling for several minutes with his brow furrowed in thought.

Why was it that she so seldom left his thoughts these days? She intrigued him; that he would acknowledge, but he still hated her. Draco couldn't help remember the line he heard once many years ago.

"_Mother?" a young Draco questioned._

"_Yes, love?" she replied turning away from the frosted window she was gazing out of. The pure white of the snow falling behind her made her skin look less pale. In that moment Draco didn't see his mother as ice, as the Snow Queen. She was real to him._

"_Do you hate him?" he asked tentatively, fiddling with his fingers and staring at his feet._

"_Who, Draco? Who do I hate?" she said, her eyes confused but concerned._

"_Father," he stated quietly, daring to look up in her eyes._

_She morphed back to a statue then, her eyes turning cold, to the way he was use to seeing them. _

"_You'll learn soon enough, Son, that there is a fine line between love and hate."_

_Narcissa had turned away then and resumed staring off into the distance. Draco turned away embarrassed, upset for he thought for a fleeting moment his mother had cracked her shell, upset because he couldn't keep her that way._

'_There is a fine line between love and hate,' _she had told him. Could it be true? Could it be that he finally understood what his mother spoke so many years ago? No, he didn't love Hermione Granger, which would be absurd - impossible. Draco Malfoy didn't know true love; he couldn't fall in love so quickly. But he didn't hate her. He didn't think he even just disliked her anymore. He was curious however, he wanted to know more and truly understand the witch before he admitted anything more to himself.

A sound reached his ears then, as he stood outside her cottage. The sun was getting lower by the minute, casting a pink shadow across everything by the lake. Draco could hear soft music and something else, something he couldn't identify. He didn't question for a second as to where it came from. Of course it was from _her_ place.

He stalked quietly across the garden, being careful not to make any noise to alert her that someone was approaching. Draco peeked in the kitchen window first, but although the noises were louder then, she wasn't there. Moving to the left, he skirted a flower bed and turned the corner of the house. Just in front of him he saw a window thrown wide open and he knew that in that room was most definitely the source of the music. But was Hermione in there as well?

Draco stole a glance around the edge of the window frame. It was a bedroom; that much he could see, a very messy bedroom at that. Clothes were strewn about the room haphazardly, one chair in the corner barely distinguishable underneath the material. He could see a closet on the front wall, its folding door half open. Photos were stuck in around the edges of the frame, the smiling faces of Potter, Weasley, and an array of other Gryffindors smiling and waving from their frames. In the closet, he could see a stack of magazines spilling over from an immense pile, but for some reason the pictures there weren't moving.

As he inched further along and allowed himself to see into the room more, he saw a poster mounted on the wall of the Bulgarian Quidditch team, signed by all the players. Beside it, a bookshelf was practically groaning under the weight of all her books. Some were lying on the floor around it, some lying upside down, but open, others face up as if they were just being read. Perched on the top of the bookcase was the same sort of box that had been playing music the first time he saw her that summer. But instead of the loud, fast paced music from before, this song was quiet and slow, more piano than guitar. It was sad and depressing, not upbeat and fun.

Moving directly in front of the window, he saw her finally, slumped in a chair with her head resting in her arms on a desk against the back wall. Draco knew what the strange sound was now. He could see her shoulders shaking, her chest rising and falling shakily. Hermione was crying.

"They'll never hurt you like I do…" sang the voice from the box. At this line Hermione shuddered as her body was wracked with sobs.

The sight tugged at his heart, anything was better than seeing her like this. But Draco didn't do comforting. He didn't even know where to begin. So he did what he knew how to do best.

"Still mourning after Potty and the Weasel, then?" Draco drawled, leaning casually against the window sill.

He saw her stiffen and slowly raise her head, her back ramrod straight. Eventually her head turn to look at him and he almost blanched at the sight of her red, puffy eyes, her tear stricken cheeks.

"Sod off, Malfoy," she spat through clenched teeth.

He could see the flash of anger in her eyes. Draco almost sighed with relief. An angry Hermione he could deal with, but a depressed one; never.

Draco cocked his head at her. "I think I'm quite comfortable here, thanks all the same."

Before he knew what was happening, Hermione had seized a glass of water from the corner of the desk. With a growl, she hurled the glass at the wall beside the window. He saw a flash of white as she bared her clenched teeth at him. Draco started as he heard the glass smash against the wall just to the right of his ear. Looking up, he saw her standing there panting in rage, fist balled at her sides.

But he couldn't allow himself to be frazzled. "You seem to be breaking quite a few glasses these days, Granger," Draco remarked with a raised eyebrow. Reaching into his robe he pulled out his wand. A quick wave and a '_Reparo'_ and the glass was back together again.

He looked up in time to catch Hermione's rolling eyes and exasperated sigh as she bit her lip. Sinking down into the wooden chair, she looked up at him. "What will it take to get you to bugger off?" she muttered in a small, defeated voice.

He beamed a hundred-watt smile at her. "Tell me what's wrong, Granger, and I'm as good as gone. Just don't say 'nothing'. And don't try to lie either, I'm pretty good at Legimency if I do say so myself," he remarked tilting his head back arrogantly and sneering at her.

Hermione looked up at him with a tiny sarcastic smile. "I wasn't going to say 'nothing', Malfoy."

He gave her a mocking nod. "Continue on, then," Draco prompted.

"What do you care anyway?" she asked, lifting her chin up and glaring at him.

Draco opened his mouth as if to reply, but he had no idea what to say to her question. Luckily Hermione held out her hand at him to stop. "Don't say anything, Malfoy," she said with a shake of her head. "I need to talk to someone about this; I don't know why it must be you, but I don't have much of a choice of people right now anyway."

He didn't say anything, but nodded for Hermione to continue.

Sighing, she started to speak. "Well I mentioned before that Ron supposedly overlooked inviting me to the burrow." Draco nodded again. "Well to tell you the truth, I was supposed to be going to Bulgaria this summer to see Viktor."

Draco was shocked. He had known she went with the Quidditch player to the Yule Ball in their fourth-year, but he had no idea that their relationship went beyond that.

Luckily Hermione missed his surprised look and continued her story. "We had sort of been involved. I visited him for a few days at the end of last summer and we've been exchanging letters since fourth-year." She took a deep breath then, inhaling shakily. "But then Viktor informed me at the end of this year that it would no longer be possible for me to come visit him." Hermione sniffed and closed her eyes. "Essentially that he was breaking up with me – he had fallen in love with someone else."

He imagined that his face looked quite a bit like a goldfish's then for his mouth was agape with shock. Why would a mediocre looking Quidditch player (although Draco had to admit Krum was by far better than mediocre at Quidditch), dump an incredibly smart, gorgeous witch like Hermione?

'_Wait,' _Draco thought. _'Rewind! Did you just admit that Granger was gorgeous? Did a piece of glass get embedded in your skull!'_ He almost smacked himself for thinking such things then, but Draco noticed that Hermione had begun to resume her tale.

"When Molly Weasley heard, she insisted that Ron invite me along to the Burrow," Hermione continued with a sniff. "I declined of course; a summer spent as a fifth wheel with Ron, Padma, Harry, and Parvati, didn't seem like much fun. So instead I came along with my parents up here. I haven't heard from any of them – Viktor included – since the school year ended."

She looked up at him then for the first time since she began to tell him her story. He didn't know what was going through her mind as she looked at him with his eyes wide in shock.

Hermione turned away quickly, but Draco had seen her face flushing in what had to be shame. Hermione Granger ashamed? She was never ashamed of herself – ever.

"Just go away, Malfoy," she said quietly. "Just leave me be."

Draco found his feet moving away from her window then as he made his way through her garden to the path by the lake. He couldn't believe what she had told him that night. It had grown dark as she spoke and Draco could just make out the flickering lights of the Manor on the hill across the lake. Slowly, he retraced his route around the lake back towards home.

He was dumbfounded at finding out that the so-called Golden Trio was so flawed, so torn apart. And it seemed as thought Potter and Weasley had no clue, no inkling that their friend was in pain, that they were the ones who were pushing her away.

Draco wasn't sure when the two boys would realize what they were doing, but when they did they would regret it. And Draco knew that when they finally came to terms with reality, it would be too late.


	7. Fine Dining

**Chapter Seven**

_**Fine Dining**_

A knock sounded at Draco's door at too early an hour the next morning. As he pulled himself from his bed, blonde hair sticking up every which way, one could hear him grumbling. Something about 'bloody mornings', 'ungodly hours of the day' and 'who gets up at ten in the morning in the summer?'

He wrenched open the door to his chambers, a scowl apparent on his face. It looked quite ridiculous on him however, what with his bedraggled appearance. Glaring down at the tiny house-elf outside of his door, he was even more annoyed when he noticed the thing was trying not to laugh at him.

"Sir is requested downstairs," the tiny creature was able to choke out. "Master and Mistress would like to see Sir before they leave." With one final glance at the ludicrous looking Draco, the house-elf snapped its fingers and promptly disappeared.

Dragging a hand through his hair, only to make it stand up even more, Draco turned back into his chambers, again muttering, although this time about 'insolent little creatures.'

Draco had completely forgotten that today was the day his parents would be leaving. He knew that they were heading off to Italy – why, he didn't know and didn't ask. His father hated curiosity and so if they didn't supply the information, Draco pretended not to care.

He hauled himself over to the floor length mirror on the opposite side of his room. Grimacing at his appearance, he quickly waved his wand and with a few muttered words, his hair was in place, all traces of sleep gone, and he was dressed in his presentable long black robes emblazoned with the Malfoy crest.

He trekked through the corridors of the Manor, amusing himself by accidentally thumping on the frames of still sleeping portraits. The indignant cries that followed him down to the main foyer of the Manor made him feel slightly better at being up so early. As he descended the staircase to the front hall, he could see his parents engaged in a whispered conversation by the fireplace where they would floo out. Hoards of house-elves were dashing about the room, making the final preparations for their departure. His parents would not travel anywhere without their own brigade of house-elves. His mother liked things done 'just so' and she did not trust any but her own strictly trained elves to look after it.

As he made his way towards them, their conversation ceased and they turned to face their son. His mother immediately began fussing with him, tugging on his shirt collar, and adjusting his robes. Her tutting disapproval annoyed him to no end, but the knowledge that soon she would be out of his hair for a few weeks allowed him to put up with it.

"We've left you Tutici to cook," his mother commented as she smoothed down her son's hair. "I know how much you love his food."

Draco had to suppress a grimace, no matter how many times he tried to tell his mother, she always forgot. He absolutely despised that creature's cooking. It had a strange obsession with seafood and thus, that was all it would cook. Draco loathed seafood, in all shapes and sizes. Just the smell of cooking salmon and he would be bolting from the room to find the nearest loo. Draco had a feeling that either he was going to be starving for the next little while, or else he would have to force himself to either beg Granger for food, or visit a Muggle restaurant. The latter seemed like a better choice.

Lucius put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "We're ready to leave, Narcissa," he announced. She nodded silently and placed a single kiss on top of her son's head. To him, her movements seemed almost robotic.

"You're breakfast is waiting in the dining room, Draco," she said quickly before turning to go. Before Draco knew it, his parents were off in a swirling of green flames, flanked by their slew of house-elves.

The once busy foyer was suddenly silent, too quiet for Draco. Taking his time, he meandered across the room towards the dining room. Pulling the large double doors open, the smell of fish assaulted his senses. Draco gagged as he noticed a large platter of kippers adorning the table. Plugging his nose and trying not to be sick, he dashed from the room, through the entrance hall and burst outside into the bright sunshine. Collapsing on the front porch, he gasped for fresh air, trying to rid his nostrils of the horrendous stench.

He had no choice, absolutely no choice whatsoever. Draco would have to go and get Muggle food. He sighed with resolve. There was no alternative. Well, one – he could go and ask Hermione to make him something. _'Right, just as soon as Voldemort turns to the light side,'_ Draco thought as he began the trek towards the Muggle village.

He wasn't as irked today while the Muggles bumped and jostled him as he wound his way through the streets of the town; over-exposure to Hermione, most likely. It took him awhile to find his bearings amidst the summer crowds, but soon enough he came upon a little café on one street corner. The outdoor patio looked quite crowded, with waitresses rushing about among the patrons. He stepped inside, a curious gust of cool air coming over him, and noticed that the inside was much less busy. There were a few empty tables scattered about, one in a far back corner, which he quickly snagged.

He immediately regretted his choice. It may have been far away from any other occupants of the restaurant, but his table was right next to the entrance into the kitchens. He could hear the shouts of the cooks and clinking of the dishes and cutlery above all else. Wincing, he stealthy pulled out his wand and muttered a quick silencing charm at the kitchen door. The clatter from the kitchens ceased moderately and he regained the ability to be able to hear his own thoughts again. Draco had just picked up the menu, after thoroughly sneering at the tacky red and white checker table cloth, when a waitress came up to his table.

"Hello, Sir," she greeted him, Draco not even bothering to look up. "My name is Hermione and I will be your waitress today."

Draco groaned out loud and leaned back, purposely banging his head against the wall behind him. He looked up just in time to see her cheerful demeanour fade away and be replaced with glaring eyes and a grimace. Her skin had also gone eerily pale, but he could see the red splotches of her anger beginning to emerge.

"OK, Malfoy," she spat, placing her hands on her hips. "Are you stalking me, or is fate playing one huge practical joke?"

"Must be that damn fate," Draco muttered under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Hermione said indignantly.

"Food, Granger!" Draco exclaimed, wincing as he raised his voice a little too loud. "Get me some food for Merlin's sake!" If it were possible he sunk even further back into his booth, trying to hide from the glances of curious Muggles.

"Of course, Malfoy," Hermione bit out between clenched teeth. "But what _sort_ of food would you like?" Draco knew that if they weren't in plain site of Muggles and if she were willing to risk her job, she would have strangled him right then and there. This thought didn't comfort him much, even though it should have brought an air of normality back into their, however messed up, relationship.

"Meat," he ground out, shuddering at the though of the kippers sitting on the table back at the manor. "I want meat," he reiterated, glaring at the witch. She finally walked away, muttering under her breath. He only caught a few words which sounded quite similar to 'prat' and 'wanker'.

When Hermione returned, she practically threw a glass of some strange, fizzing, brown liquid at him. Draco sniffed apprehensively at it and wound up in a coughing fit as some of the carbonated bubbles went up his nose. Hermione was still standing there watching him, a bemused expression on her face. Shooting her a look of utter contempt, Draco bravely took a sip of the foreign beverage – and promptly spit it back out.

"What is this disgusting atrocity, Granger?" he demanded.

"Muggle cola," she replied simply. "It's probably one of the most popular drinks."

"It's filth," he exclaimed, wrinkling his nose. The drink was too sweet, too syrupy for his tastes. Pumpkin juice, lovely, slightly bitter, pumpkin juice was what he needed.

"Get me some pumpkin juice," he ordered her.

She gave him an incredulous look. "Muggles don't drink pumpkin juice, Malfoy," she stated.

Draco was practically grinding his teeth in annoyance. "Then get me some water!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Master," she replied sarcastically.

When his meal finally arrived, Draco didn't even take the time to insult the 'common' food she had chosen. Instead he stuffed the hamburger in his mouth like a starving man and sighed in contentment.

"You are such a pig," Hermione commented, wrinkling her nose as she watched a drip of ketchup run down his chin.

"I was hungry," Draco sneered when he swallowed his mouthful. "Your service is entirely too slow here."

He watched her closely as he ate, not entirely sure why. She flitted about the restaurant, taking orders and chatting amicably with the customers. It was obvious that some were regulars; he could catch snippets of their conversations. Hermione pointedly ignored him, never coming over to his table. He had to finally swallow some pride and actually wave her over – something Malfoys never did in restaurants - to get the check.

Hermione looked at him strangely when he handed over his coins. "Malfoy!" she exclaimed. "You can't pay with Galleons in a Muggle restaurant!"

"Take it or leave it, Granger," he replied, getting up from the table. "It's the only money I have."

"Fine," she ground out. Hermione pocketed his wizard coins and replaced them with a couple crumpled bills from her pocket. "You owe me, Malfoy."

He was just opening his mouth to reply back, when an older woman behind Hermione cleared her throat.

"Sorry to interrupt, Hermione," she said, casting an uninterested glace at Draco, "but Hannah has just come in, so you can take your break now if you wish – we should be able to handle the floor for awhile."

Hermione smiled at the lady. "Thanks, Kathy. I'll be out on the patio if things get too crazy."

Kathy nodded at her and continued on into the kitchens. Draco made a move to leave, but Hermione promptly stopped him.

"Not so fast, Malfoy," she called out as he turned his back. "I need to talk to you about something."

Draco gave her a look of annoyance. "I think I've had quite enough of your company for one day, Granger."

Hermione returned his look. "It will take all of 5 minutes, I promise," she stated. "Just go out to the patio, I'll be there in just a minute." Not bothering to wait for a response, she spun on her heel and disappeared into the back of the restaurant.

Draco contemplated just leaving, but he had to admit to himself that he was slightly curious as to what she so desperately had to tell him. Thus, against his better judgement, he made his way outside and took a seat at a minuscule green plastic table.

A short while later, Hermione appeared, a thin black sweater thrown over her uniform with one of the disgusting 'cola' drinks and a salad in hand. She settled herself down at the table with him, and shoved a forkful of lettuce into her mouth.

Draco wrinkled his nose at her as she continued to eat and take the occasional sip of cola. Finally, he grew impatient. "What is it that you want, Granger? I have better places to be."

Hermione glared at him as she swallowed a mouthful of salad. She gently wiped the corners of her mouth with a serviette before folding her hands in front of her on the table.

"I'm going to be frank with you, Malfoy," she started.

"This isn't about me witnessing you bawling your eyes out last night?" Draco asked, in a bored tone.

He saw her purse her lips in aggravation. "Yes. It is," she replied curtly. "If you dare speak word of it to anyone, I will make your life miserable."

Draco snorted in amusement at her weak threat. "I highly doubt there is anything you could do make my life miserable, Granger."

She just shrugged. "Well at least I warned you," she replied, taking a sip of her drink.

As he watched her return to eating, Draco figured their conversation was over. He stood from the table and began to walk away. Part of him was expecting her to call after him, to tell him that they weren't done talking. He paused at the gate leading off of the patio, but she made no move to make him stay. Feeling slightly put out, and not entirely sure why, Draco banged the metal gate closed harder than he intended to, and walked off.


	8. The Getaway

**Chapter Eight**

_The Getaway_

Draco needed to get away from the manor. This whole summer had been the complete opposite of what he expected. He needed some solitude to collect his thoughts. He got a bag packed with food by one of the house-elves - not Tutici - and made his way towards the family stables.

He thumped through the place, wrinkling his nose at the smell of hay and manure. It always took awhile for him to get use to it. To Draco's annoyance, it seemed that all the stable help had been dismissed for the summer and the elves were accompanying his parents on their trip. Grabbing a lead chain off of the rack, Draco headed out to the pasture to fetch his horse.

Gingerly, he opened the gate and stepped into the field. Draco couldn't remember when the last time he had had to fetch his own horse was. The herd had settled themselves at the very end of the field, near the road into town. There were twelve horses in all; three were his, three his mother's, and six belonged to his father.

Draco spied his black gelding, Charlie, grazing near the spruce tree in the right corner of the field. Draco began to pick his way across the field, carefully manoeuvring around the piles of manure that dotted the ground. As he got closer, Draco noticed a figure sitting on the fence beside Charlie - a very familiar figure. _'For Merlin's sake,_' thought Draco. He just couldn't seem to get away from Hermione. How did she manage always to pop up wherever he tried to go?

He let out a low whistle as he approached Charlie so that the horse wouldn't be frightened. Hermione looked up in shock as she heard Draco. He slid his hand across the back of the horse, up and over the withers. Draco was lucky - sometimes Charlie didn't want to go for a ride. Grasping the horse's halter, Draco clipped the lead on.

"Do you know how to ride, Granger?" he asked, addressing her for the first time.

She regarded him thoughtfully, shielding her eyes from the bright sun with one hand. She jumped down from the fence, and came up to lightly stroke Charlie's cheek.

"I'm amazed you're out doing such menial tasks, Malfoy," she commented. "Don't you have hired help to do these sorts of things?"

"Normally," Draco responded with a grimace.

"So you're going for a ride, then?"

"No, Granger," Draco replied in annoyance. "I'm fetching Charlie here for our date. I figured a spot of tea and a rousing game of Wizard's Chess would be nice."

Hermione wrinkled her nose at him. "No need to be snarky," she said, running her hands through the horse's mane.

"Is there something in particular you want, Granger?" Draco asked in exasperation. "Would you like to go for a ride?"

Hermione beamed up at him. "I thought you'd never ask," she answered cheekily.

Draco saw that his other horse, Casper, had wandered over towards them. Tugging Charlie behind him, he went over toward the grey horse and grabbed its halter. Holding the horses on either side of him, Draco began to walk back up towards the stables.

"Are you coming?" he called over his shoulder to Hermione who hadn't begun to move. She gave a small nod before following him.

Draco refused to talk to her during the hike back up to the stable. He was too busy chastising himself for inviting her along. This ride was suppose to get him away from her, allow him to sort out his thoughts. Having Hermione come along pretty much ruined all of those plans.

Reaching the stables, Draco clipped each horse to a set of crossties. He looked behind him and saw that Hermione was hesitating at the door to the barn, unwilling to come in.

"Are you just going to lurk, or will you be useful for once and help?" Draco remarked, walking over to where she stood.

"Aren't they a bit dangerous?" Hermione asked, trepidation sneaking into her voice. "I mean," she said, becoming a bit more confident, "I don't know if I can trust you're horses, Malfoy. They're probably trained not to obey Muggleborns."

"Don't be an idiot, Granger," Draco said in annoyance. "The only thing these horses will react to is if they can sense your fear. If they can tell you're afraid and don't know what you're doing, they will take advantage of that."

Draco walked back into the stables and to the tack room. Hermione still wasn't following him.

"Come on," he yelled to her. "I've never used the spells that the servants normally use, so we have to do this the hard way. Two sets of hands are better than one."

Finally, Hermione decided to come inside. She skirted the horses at a far distance, carefully staying away from their hind ends, in fear of getting kicked. She entered the tack room and Draco immediately shoved a large leather saddle into her arms. He noted that she buckled under the weight of it, obviously not comfortable with the foreign object.

"That's Charlie's saddle, go put it on him," Draco instructed. "Oh," he said, remembering something. "You'll need this."

With that, he tossed the girth at Hermione. She just barely caught it without dropping the saddle on the ground. He watched in amusement as she staggered out of the room, girth placed awkwardly over her shoulder.

Draco was just getting the equipment for Casper as well as the two bridles, when he heard a commotion out in the corridor where Hermione and the horses were. Grabbing the rest of the equipment that he needed, Draco made his way out to where she was.

Seeing Hermione toppled over on the floor, saddle fallen on top of her, had Draco doubled over in laughter. Chuckling at Hermione's glare - her response to his laughter - Draco propped the saddle on his left arm against his hip and reached down to pull the other saddle off of Hermione. She scrambled to her feet, dusting off herself as she avoided looking Draco in the eye.

"The saddle's heavier than I thought," she mumbled as a blush blossomed on her cheeks.

"You're completely useless, you know that, Granger?" he remarked.

Hermione puffed up in anger. "Just because I've never saddled a horse, Malfoy-"

"So you never read about it in a book, then?" he interrupted.

"I don't learn everything from books," she spat, planting her hands on her hips.

"Of course not," he replied sarcastically.

"I don't!" she reiterated.

Draco just rolled his eyes and shook his head. He handed the saddle back to Hermione and moved past her to where Casper was tied up. Effortlessly he hoisted the saddle up onto the horse's back. Depositing the two bridles that he still held on hooks off to the side, Draco quickly fastened the saddle in place.

Hermione was still standing with then other saddle in her arms beside Charlie. Sneering at her, Draco pulled it out of her grasp and saddled up his horse.

"I don't suppose you know how to bridle a horse either?" Draco asked, anticipating a negative answer. She shook her head. "Well, while I do this, you can go grab two helmets from the change rooms," he instructed waving his hand towards the room. "Mine is clearly marked, but you'll have to use one of the servant's." Hermione gave him a dirty look at that, but nevertheless went off to get the helmets. "Grab us each a crop, too," he called after her. Hermione turned around, eyes wide in shock. "I am NOT going to hit an animal with one of those things, Draco Malfoy! That is simply inhumane!" "Suit yourself," Draco said, not really concerned. "But you'd better still fetch me one. It's your own problem if you want to ride without. "Hermione disappeared from sight and Draco made quick work of Casper's bridle. He waited impatiently for her to return, his foot tapping on the ground. Finally she turned the corner, his helmet and crop in hand - and his _mother's_ helmet on her head.

"I said a servant's helmet, Granger," he restated. "My mother would not be pleased with you soiling her property."

Hermione gave him a dirty look. "It's the only one that fits, Malfoy," she replied through gritted teeth.

Taking Casper's reins from him, she shoved Draco's things at him. He fastened the helmet, and pulled on his riding gloves that had been tucked into his pocket. Draco bridled up Charlie and proceeded to lead the two of them out of the stables. Standing in the yard in front, Draco quickly mounted his horse and turned towards Hermione. She was still standing on the ground, looking up at him.

"I don't think I'm tall enough to do this, Malfoy," she admitted.

"Are you going to at least try before giving up?" he asked.

"But -" she began, before stopping herself.

Hermione placed her left foot in the stirrup and tried to pull herself up. For a second, Draco thought she might actually make it, before she lost her grip and fell on her arse.

"For Merlin's sake," Draco grumbled as he began to slide out of his saddle.

"No!" Hermione cried. "I can do this on my own," she declared, her stubbornness coming back.

Draco shrugged and continued to watch her struggle. It took Hermione a good five tries before she finally made it atop the horse. When she was seated on Casper, Hermione looked over and gave Draco a triumphant look.

"Don't look so full of yourself," Draco said, not impressed. "Real equestrians can do that on the first try."

Hermione gave him a look of disdain. "And I suppose you're a real equestrian, then?"

"I never said that," Draco replied. "But I _have_ been riding since I was able to walk."

"Ah, the life of a spoiled, rich prat," Hermione said. "I suppose they had you out playing polo at a young age too?"

"Polo?"

Hermione shook her head. "Sorry, Muggle thing."

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Muggle's play the strangest sports."

"_I_ think they're ingenious and entertaining," Hermione said in defence.

"_I_ think they're trivial and petty."

Hermione pursed her lips in annoyance. "Then what's Quidditch?"

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as Charlie whinnied loudly and pawed the ground. "Let's just get going, Granger," he said instead.

Hermione sent him a look that plainly said _I won_. Ignoring her, he gave his horse a slight kick and led them out of the yard.

Everything seemed to be going fine; Draco leading her through the hillside to a particular picnic spot he had come to when he was younger. That was, until he heard Hermione's frustrated cries from behind him.

"Malfoy!" she called out. "He won't seem to go!"

Draco circled back to find that Casper had hauled her over to the side of the path and was happily munching on the grass. Hermione seemed to be trying as hard as she could to pull his head away, but Casper was having none of it.

Draco came beside her. "This," he remarked, "is why you need to carry a riding crop." He proceeded to smack Casper's arse.

He just barely registered Hermione's scream as Casper took off at a canter. Hermione had been thrown forward in the saddle and was desperately clinging to the horse's neck. Draco sighed and shook his head.

"Lean back, Granger!" Draco bellowed after her, but she didn't seem to obey him. "GRANGER!" Draco yelled again. "I'm not coming to save you! Lean back and PULL!"

It was a couple seconds more before she seemed to register was Draco was saying. Leaning back, she put her weight back onto the saddle and pulled on the reins with all her might. Slowly, Casper slowed down and broke from the canter to a trot and then to a walk.

When Draco caught up to them, Granger was bent double in the saddle, panting for breath. She looked up as she heard them approach. Draco was taken aback to see tear tracks on her cheeks.

"No need to cry, Granger," he said. "Just a bit of excitement for your dreary life."

"You could have come after me!" she cried, another tear falling down her cheek.

"Why in the world would I do that?" Draco asked, surprised.

Hermione sniffed. "Sorry, I must have forgotten, bravery isn't a Slytherin trait," she replied nastily.

"And I suppose common sense isn't something Gryffindors possess," Draco retorted. "We race these horses, Granger. If I chased after you they would have thought it was just another competition."

"You still could have done _something_!" she accused.

"Like what? I don't know what you were expecting me to have done, Granger," Draco said, baffled at her reaction to what had happened. "I told you how to stop him, and when you finally took my advice, Casper stopped."

Hermione huffed, but Draco could tell she knew he was right. "Let's just keep going," Hermione said. "And no more using the crop!"

----

About thirty minutes later, they reached the picnic spot. It was a point on the summit of one of the hills surrounding the Malfoy Manor. Below them, the grounds of the Manor, the lake, and the surrounding towns, stretched out towards the horizon. Draco tied the horses up at an old hitching post his father had placed there years ago.

Plopping himself underneath one of the trees dotting the hillside, Draco opened his rucksack and pulled out the food he had gotten packed for himself. It wasn't until he took a bite into his roast beef sandwich, that he remembered that Hermione was there too and probably hungry.

With a sigh, Draco handed over the other half of the sandwich to her. "You're lucky my house-elves packed too much, Granger."

He looked over at her, and was surprised to see that she was examining the sandwich in amusement. "What?" he asked around a mouthful of roast beef.

"Your mother cuts the crust off for you, Malfoy?" Hermione giggled. "That's _so_ cute!"

"I don't have to feed you," Draco threatened.

"Look, Malfoy," Hermione said, finished her sandwich. "I need to talk to you about something."

"What is it now?" Draco asked. "You already threatened me over the Krum debacle, remember?"

"It's not that," Hermione admitted, looking down at her hands, blushing slightly.

"Well what is it then?" Draco asked, getting aggravated.

Hermione moved closer to him, so that he could feel her pressed right up against his side. Her hand began tracing patterns across his thigh. She looked up at him and Draco could have sworn she batted her eyelashes!

"Granger..." Draco warned, not quite sure what she was up to.

She took a deep breath. "I just wanted to tell you that I've really appreciated how you've been acting this summer." She inched close, her face only inches from his. "You've been so uncharacteristically kind and really helped me out. Thank you."

Draco was frozen in shock, wondering what Granger was trying to do. She was so close he could smell the garlic on her breath from their lunch. Softly, Hermione pressed her lips against Draco's. He didn't move; Draco was as stiff as a board, completely confused as to what was going on.

Suddenly, Hermione pushed herself away from him. "I can't do this!" she cried.

"Granger, I don't know what you're trying to pull..." Draco started.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy. I don't know why I agreed to go through with this," Hermione said, burying her head in her hands.

"Agreed to what?" Draco asked. "For Merlin's sake, Granger, what are you talking about!"

"It's all just a scheme!" Hermione wailed. "When Ron and Harry heard that I would be vacationing here near your home, they came up with this idea. I was suppose to try and seduce you, make you trust me, learn anything you might know about V-V-Voldemort!"

"Granger-" Draco began.

"It's all a lie!" she exclaimed, cutting him off. "I wasn't unwanted at the Burrow and they would have come to my race, except they had certain... duties to fulfill," she explained cryptically.

"Granger-" Draco tried again.

"I'm so sorry, Malfoy," Hermione said. "But I just can't do it, even to someone I use to hate. It just isn't fair."

With that, Hermione jumped to her feet and ran towards the horses. She made quick work of untying Casper, and this time it only took her two tries to get on the horse's back.

"Granger, wait!" Draco yelled as she kicked the horse into a trot.

Hermione turned just before she went around a bend in the road. Giving Draco an apologetic look, she continued to flee.


	9. Shocking Realizations

**Chapter 9**

_Shocking Realizations_

Draco stared in shock at the spot where Hermione had just disappeared. He wasn't sure what exactly to make of this new revelation. He couldn't quite believe what she had told him - that this whole summer worth of events had been one big ploy to spy on him. He was suddenly filled with rage at the thought of how Hermione had deceived him, how she thought he could be seduced to reveal secrets, and most of all, how it had actually been working.

He wasn't sure who he was more aggravated at, himself or Hermione. However hard it was to admit it; she had been occupying his thoughts quite often over the past few weeks. In his rage, Draco drew his wand and shot a spell at a bee flying by. Seeing the small creature expand until it exploded did little to lighten his mood. _'How DARE that Mudblood do this to me,'_ Draco thought in contempt. '_Proud of her dirty blood, she says. No better than a common whore.'_

Enraged, Draco grabbed his things and jumped on his horse's back. Giving Charlie a swift kick in anger, the horse sprung into a fast paced canter, leaving the picnic spot behind. The pounding of the hooves on the dirt path spurred on Draco's anger. He kept replaying Hermione's confession over and over in his head. If there was one thing that Draco could not stand, it was being made a fool; and that was just what Hermione Granger had done to him. Mudblood Granger, always the perfect little Gryffindor, her sense of right and wrong forcing her to bow out before she got in over her head.

'_I just can't do it,'_ Draco mocked in his head. _'Even to someone I use-'._ Pulling suddenly on the reins, Draco brought the horse back to a walk. Hermione has said that she _use_ to hate him. Had she meant that? Or had it just been a slip of the tongue? Draco wasn't quite sure what Hermione might have been hinting at, but he knew one thing – he needed to find her.

Draco got back to the stables in record time. It seemed, however, that Hermione had beaten him; Casper had been left tethered to a fence post. He made quick work of untacking the pair of horses and returned them to the pasture.

By the time Draco was finished, he was cover in a layer of sweat and dust from the dry, hot, summer's day. Deciding that he was in no condition to head into town, Draco retreated up to the Manor for a shower and a change of clothes.

-------

As Draco stood outside her cottage, poised to enter, he realised that he had no idea what exactly he was going to say to Hermione when he saw her. Should he yell at her in anger over her deceit or be calm and cool about the whole ordeal? Draco decided the latter was probably the better way to go about it.

Standing out back by the kitchen door, Draco could hear voice filter out through the window from the front room of the cottage. This caused him to hesitate for a second, but Draco decided it was probably just some of Hermione's music playing like usual. Pushing open the kitchen door, Draco wandered into the cottage and made his way towards the front room.

He froze in the doorway to the room. Hermione stood bewildered in the middle of the room as the fire in the grate of the fireplace erupted in green flames. Clambering out of the fire was Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

"Well, well," said Draco, finding his voice. "If it isn't Potty and the Weasel."

They started when hearing his voice; all three members of the Golden Trio turning around when he spoke.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy," Harry spat, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked, stepping in front of her two friends.

Draco realised that with the arrival of the two boys that he had no hope in having any sort of conversation with Hermione. Deciding to abandon his original plan, Draco leaned back against the doorframe and sneered at the three of them. "To win the Quidditch World Cup. World domination," Draco replied. "A nice piece of steak would be amicable as well," he added.

"Typical Slytherin," Ron growled at him, drawing his wand out of his trouser pocket.

Sensing the redhead's volatile temper was in danger of being unleashed (and knowing that it quite often went awry), Draco pulled his wand out as well.

Turning to his two friends, Ron said, "What about you two? There are three of us, we can take him!"

Hermione shook her head at him. "Still underage, Ronald," she reminded him in a patronizing voice.

"Harry?" Ron said desperately.

"Not till tomorrow, mate."

Draco almost had to laugh at the Weasley's expression by then. He seemed almost as aggravated at his two friends as at Draco.

"Fine," Ron announced. "I can take him myself."

Draco was amused at his stubbornness. He fondly remembered the incident in second year when Weasley had tried to hex him and had ended up throwing up his own slugs all day instead.

"_Expelliarmus_!" cried Ron.

Draco scoffed at him, easily deflecting the spell. "_Tarantallegra!" _he shot back, laughing as the other boy's legs began to move out of his control.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione scolded after he had performed the counter-curse. "Stop trying to provoke him."

"Always the voice of reason, aren't you, Mudblood?" Draco said in contempt, well aware that this was the first time in a long while that he had called her that.

Apparently the significance wasn't lost on Hermione either. "GET OUT!" she screamed, drawing her own wand. "Get out before I hex you myself!"

"You wouldn't do that, though, would you, Granger?" Draco retorted, as he walked over to her. "You're too much of a goody Gryffindor to ignore the law," he said, looking down at her.

"Just get out," she said again, looking up at him defiantly. "I thought I made it quite clear to you earlier just how exactly I felt about you."

"Ah, yes," Draco said with a smirk. "You did let me know _exactly_ how you feel," he remarked cryptically.

Hermione looked up at him confused, but Draco refused to expand on what he had said. Maybe she didn't recall having admitted that she only use to hate him, but quite obviously that meant she _didn't_ anymore.

Sneering at Harry and Ron, both of which were looking particularly perplexed by the exchange that had just happened, Draco exited the Granger's cottage and made his way back to the Manor.


	10. Under the Stars

**Chapter Ten**

_**Under the Stars**_

Even though the sun had long since disappeared below the horizon, the sandy beach still radiated the warmth of the day. Draco savoured the heat as he sat alone on the small beach near the Manor. He could hear bit and pieces of conversations filtering out towards him from across the lake. Most of the cottages were dark now, but the lights still flickered in the windows of Hermione's.

Voices became slightly louder as light spilled out on the back garden of her cottage. He saw a solitary figure exit and make their way down towards the water's edge.

As they neared the edge, Draco was able to identify the person as Hermione. She stood silently with the water lapping at her toes for awhile, gazing at the stars, unaware that Draco's eyes were on her. Slowly she wadded out into the lake and began to swim across the lake in an unhurried fashion.

Draco couldn't tell if she had noticed his presence on the beach yet. She was headed right his way, but she seemed more concentrated on her strokes than on the environment around her. He watched as she went to flip over, and begin swimming back towards the shore. As she turned onto her back, Hermione raised her head slightly and caught Draco's eye.

Apparently she hadn't spotted him sitting there until now. Hermione was caught completely off guard, and gasped – taking in a mouthful of water. He watched her flail about in the lake, coughing and spluttering up water. Then suddenly, her head disappeared beneath the surface.

Draco jumped to his feet and stared horrified at the spot where her head had just been. Without thinking, he rushed into the water and began floundering about, hoping to feel some part of her body underwater. Finally, when he was starting to feel incredibly desperate, he felt a small hand grasp onto his ankle. Reaching into the water he grasped onto her wrist and wrenched Hermione out of the water. He heard her gasping for air as soon as her head broke the surface. Throwing her limp body over his shoulder, he hauled her to the beach.

She lay there with the sand sticking to her body, looking like hell. Draco sat quietly beside her as she caught her breath, every once and awhile breaking into coughing fits. Eventually the coughing stopped and Hermione's breathing returned to normal.

"Why did you save me?" she asked quietly.

Draco didn't look at her. "I didn't want your death on my hands," he replied with a shrug.

Hermione gave a slight laugh at that, her voice wheezy and horse.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," she said.

This caught his attention, and Draco looked over at her pitiful form. "Whatever for?"

Hermione sighed. "For the whole debacle this summer; it wasn't suppose to end up like this."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, getting a bit miffed at her apology. "You weren't supposed to botch seducing secrets out of me, or you weren't supposed to stop hating me along the way?"

He heard her breath hitch at the last statement. "Both?" she said uncertainly. "Maybe neither?" Hermione sighed. "I wasn't even planning on going through with the scheme. I was going to just tell them I wasn't able to have contact with you at all. But when we kept meeting up, I thought maybe I _could_ do it."

"How much of it was a lie?" Draco asked coldly.

"None of it," Hermione admitted. "They say the easiest way to deceive is to keep as much of the truth in the lies as possible."

"So at what point did you stop hating me?" Draco asked bluntly. He noticed that she stiffened next to him.

"Whoever said I don't still hate you?" Hermione questioned in a meek voice.

"You did," Draco replied, shooting a glance in her direction.

"I – I did?" she stuttered.

"Yes, you did," Draco said again, getting exasperated at her. "Early today during you're _confession_," he said with vehemence. "You said you couldn't betray someone like that, even someone you _used_ to hate."

"Oh," Hermione commented lamely.

Draco looked over at her and saw that her face was bright red with embarrassment, despite the fact that she was shivering. He took pity on her, casting a Drying Charm and conjuring up a blanket for her. She wrapped the blanket snugly around her as if trying to absorb as much heat as possible from the inanimate object. Hermione looked so small lying there.

He didn't know what had come over to him, but Draco found himself leaning over her, bringing his face closer towards hers. His lips barely brushed across Hermione's when she turned her head. He found himself staring at her pale cheek instead.

"I'm going home tomorrow," Hermione stated.

"Are you?" Draco asked, not entirely sure what her comment had to do with anything.

"Yes," she said firmly. "I probably won't see you again until we go back to Hogwarts."

"Ah," Draco murmured, understanding. Everything would undoubtedly be different once they returned to school. It didn't matter what happened during the summer. At Hogwarts they were Slytherin and Gryffindor, plain and simple.

Draco lay back on the sand beside Hermione and looked up at the stars. They lay quietly together for sometime. After awhile Draco heard some soft noises coming from Hermione. He sat up and looked over at her, to see that she had fallen asleep and was snoring slightly. Conjuring up more blankets, he wrapped another around her body, before lying back down and falling asleep himself.

Draco's eyelids fluttered as sunlight poured down on him. It was a strange feeling; normally he slept with his bed curtains pulled tight, so that no light could come in. When he opened his eyes, he was assaulted by the bright light. Groaning, Draco sat up and saw the lake stretched out before him. Finally, he remembered how he had fallen asleep the night before on the beach in front of the manor.

He looked around for Hermione, but she was no where to be seen. All that was on the beach with him was a pile of neatly folded blankets – the ones he had conjured up for her the night before.

From across the lake came a whooshing sound, audible in the still, morning air. Through the windows of Hermione's cottage he could see briefly bright, green flames.

She was gone, he realised, looking at the now silent cottage. He felt empty inside.

Draco stood, gathered up his things, and prepared to walk back up to the manor. Suddenly, a bird appeared on the horizon. As it flew closer, Draco could see that it was an owl with a letter clutched in one claw. It landed on a tree branch a few feet away from him. Dropping the blankets that he held back on the ground, Draco went to the bird and untied the letter from its foot. As soon as its burden was gone, the owl took off.

Slowly, Draco unrolled the parchment to reveal the letter. He didn't know what to expect. Upon reading it, he began to feel slightly more cheerful. Perhaps things wouldn't end up as horrible as he had though they would. Gathering back up the abandoned blankets, Draco began to hike towards the manor. He was now actually looking forward to his return to Hogwarts. Behind him, there was a flash of green light from the other side of the lake, and an owl disappeared into the horizon.

Winter in the dungeons was always a cold season. Draco dug in his trunk for the extra blankets he had packed for this occasion. He always preferred the ones that reminded him a little bit of home. From between the folds, a crinkled piece of parchment fell to the floor along with a few grains of sand.

_So long sweet summer, I stumbled upon you and gratefully basked in your rays. Thanks for that summer. It's cold where you're going, I hope that your heart's always warm._

**_Fin_**

_Lyrics: Dashboard Confessional - So Long Sweet Summer_


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